


A Surreal Winter

by That_One_Yaoi_Kid



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Cold Weather, Fluff, M/M, Winter, nothing but fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-28 22:58:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10841229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_One_Yaoi_Kid/pseuds/That_One_Yaoi_Kid
Summary: His smile is the only lifeline a man needs. His laugh is the perfect heartbeat. He moves like liquid, his eye is memorizing and his wound is unforgettable. He is an endless oblivion with a body of gold, and Negan is all but falling inside that oblivion weightlessly.





	A Surreal Winter

**Author's Note:**

> First Cegan/Narl one-shot of many. Some will be smut, some angst, but I just wanted to make a nice fluff for you all :) Sorry if it's short, but feel free to request!

Negan is startled awake, laughter floating inside the room from the open window beside him. A ice, winter breeze floats in with that laughter, and Negan shivers as he sits up in bed. The covers fall to his waist, exposing his chest and for once the man wishes he had more chest hair for warmth. 

 

Another laugh bubbles from a familiar throat, and Negan is drawn to the sound like a moth to a flame. Swiftly, he tosses the covers away and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Standing up, he gathers a red long-sleeve tunic, black jeans and his usual leather jacket. 

 

_ Fuck the bed,  _ he thinks to himself, but he knows his partner will scold him for it later. For now, that is the future and this is the present. The present is him taking his leather-jacket wearing ass outside to find his troublemaker. That’s the present. 

 

He shuts the window, pulls on his leather gloves and ties his shoes before he’s hurrying down the hall. Once he’s reached the front door, he pulls his scarf off the rack and around his neck, noting that the house is empty save for Judith and him. Judith’s asleep in her room, and Negan is already out the door before he can register that she’ll be alone. 

 

Once outside, white snow is blown into his face and coughs, cold air whistling past his ears, into his eyes and around his nose. “Shit!” He huffs, adjusting his scarf so it lays over his mouth and nose, blocking out the unwanted crystals.

 

His waist is against the porch railing in two, short strides, and his leather fingers grip the chipped wood. 

 

Negan forgets to breathe when he catches sight of his partner.

 

In the street, Carl spins on his toes, head tilted back as snow cascades over his face. Mouth open, tongue out to catch the flakes as he giggles breathlessly. Snow falls into his open, exposed wound, the hole in his face he despises but Negan admires too much. 

 

Negan smiles, reminding himself he’s human and he somewhat deserves to breathe. The boy must be freezing, wearing a thin red and black checkered flannel over a black graphic tee with ripped skinny jeans. But Carl doesn’t shiver. 

 

No, he continues spinning without a care; astonishingly beautiful and constantly imprinted in Negan’s mind. 

 

The teenager in his cloud nine when Negan approaches, and he looks over at the man when he is drawn away from it by Negan’s smooth voice, “Well, good morning, pretty boy.” 

 

Carl gives a small and sweet smile, Negan returning the gesture with affection. It is then when Negan catches sight of the small snowflakes that have collected in the boy’s hair as it lies gently on his shoulders. His fingers are merely blue when Negan sees them, and concern washes over him like a waterfall. Much like the white snow around them. 

 

Instinctively, Negan takes Carl’s hands in one of his own and blows on them. “C’mon,  _ Carly _ . Let’s get you inside so I’m not fucking a popsicle tonight, okay?” 

  
Carl giggles, delusional from the cold. “Okay.”


End file.
